


Prince of the Black Ice

by HanakoAkibara15



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Divorce, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Missing Persons, Name Changes, References to Depression, Suicide Notes, Victor doesn't know what's happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:24:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanakoAkibara15/pseuds/HanakoAkibara15
Summary: Yuuri goes missing and supposedly commits suicide after Viktor forces their divorce over a misunderstanding. They think he's dead, but they never found a body. Then, a new, mysterious skater enters the Figure Skating network.What connection does he have to Yuuri and his supposed 'death'?





	1. Chapter 1

A week after Viktor forced the divorce on his husband, Yuri, the Japanese man disappeared. He simply vanished off the face of the Earth. A missing person report had been filed by his parents, but it quickly turned cold, after the young man’s worried older sister went into his room and found a suicide note on his desk. The moment the media caught wind of what had happened, famous figure-skater, Viktor Nikiforov, had been pounded relentlessly by the hatred of the entire planet. They claimed that it was his fault, his forceful breakup, that had driven his ex-husband to suicide. And the guilt was more than overwhelming. It was deafening, blindingly bright, like constant cameras flashing in his eyes.

The one thing that truly broke everyone was the fact that they never found his body. They had scoured every river and crevice of Hasetsu, searching, hoping, wishing, for any sign of their child. They wanted to know what happened to him, even if they knew it would probably only cause more pain.

Six months after the tragedy, a new face showed up in the figure-skating circle. His name was Kurai Akahoshi. A 26-year-old Japanese man with a rather intimidating appearance, and a striking resemblance to Yuri Katsuki.

Viktor watches in complete and utter shock as a black-haired young man rises from his spot in the row of chairs currently occupied by this year’s competitors. His skin is pale, covering his slim, yet well-built figure. His black hair is cut in an undercut, with the ear-length mop swept over to the right. At least ten black and silver piercings coat each of his ears, as well as one at the end of his perfect left eyebrow. A blank, serious expression graces his face as he pulls the number five from the bag. The crowd claps, but he seems to ignore them, moving back over to his chair and slumping heavily into his seat, crossing his legs with a bored expression. It’s then that Viktor gets to see his eyes. They’re a blood red colour, the right iris adorned with a few specks of dark brown. They’re terrifying, but Viktor finds them mesmerising at the same time.

“He’s rather handsome,” Chris whispers, leaning toward his friend a little.

“Hmm...” Viktor replies quietly. “‘Kurai Akahoshi’... I wonder what he’s like...”

“I wonder what he’s going to be wearing for his short program...” Chris agrees breathlessly. “He holds himself with a rather... seductive confidence. And his eyes are amazing.”

“His full name means, roughly, ‘Dark Red River’,” a voice comes from behind them.

They both turn to see Yuri Katsuki’s sister sitting in the seat behind Chris.

“I looked him up, but there are no records of him before a few weeks ago, when he got caught up in a violent street fight in Kabukicho,” she tells them. “He’s lucky they’re even allowing him to perform, he stabbed two people with a metal chair leg.”

“W-What?” Chris chokes, while Viktor remains in a shocked silence.

“I even found some rumours and theories that he’s actually Yuri... just possessed by some kind of evil spirit.”

She scoffs at her own words and earns light chuckles from the two men. Little do they know, that could very well be what has happened...

 

**** **** ****

 

Yuri Plisetsky has just finished his short program, and now the new, mysterious young man that is Kurai Akahoshi is up.

“Last but not least, Kurai Akahoshi, could you please make your way onto the ice.”

Kurai draws in a deep breath, before quickly pulling off his dark gray and red jacket and tossing it into his coach’s hands. Lindsey gives him a small nod and hands him the Steampunk goggles. His whole outfit is a stunning, lightweight, subtle version of one of the traditional Steampunk tailcoat outfits. It consists of a plain white dress shirt, a tan coloured tie and a dark brown, scuffed and torn tailcoat, along with dark grey trousers and brown leather, fingerless gloves. Along the both arms of the tail coat are three golden buckles, and fixed on his hairline are a pair of gold and wooden goggles, keeping his hair out of his eyes at the same time as completing the outfit.

Slowly, he makes his way out to the centre of the rink, his tails billowing out behind him.

“He’ll be skating to ‘Roundtable Rival’ composed by his coach, Lindsey Stirling, a violinist,” the announcer says calmly as Kurai takes position. “His outfit was handmade.”

The moment the music starts, the audience is completely awestruck by his smooth, seductive way of moving. His performance has the audience caught in a death-trap of mockery. It’s almost as if his very presence is tainting their pride and innocence. His eyes flash with amusement as the music’s tempo begins to rise. Viktor and the other skaters see Kurai shoot Lindsey a smirk, before the bass finally drops and he performs a perfect quadruple axel. The moment this happens, the onlooking skaters are shocked into silence. His dramatic performance continues, with Kurai then moving into a triple toe loop, single lutz, triple flip combination, followed by a bent-leg layover spin into a donut spin. A ghost of a smile graces the young man’s coach’s lips as he goes into a dramatic and violent step sequence. She remembers the day he came to her with a request to use her music for both his short program and free skate. She agreed, of course.

Being a sort of contemporary dancer herself, she taught him elements of the dance from the music video. She had fallen completely in love with the way he moved, and watching him now, performing an official program in a competition? She couldn’t be prouder. He had become like a son to her. It has only been seven and a half months since they met, and a month since he posted that cover of Transcendence into the public’s eye. They have no idea who this mystery man is, no idea what he had been through, no idea what pain he had felt... but she does. He’s told her. She knows everything. She knows what had happened, what had changed him from the loveable Yuri Katsuki, into the violence- and sarcasm-filled Kurai Akahoshi. The boy with eyes that matched his name and his broken heart. Red. He had told her that all he saw after that divorce was _red_. The need to either die or become a completely new person overwhelmed him to the point where he had faked his own suicide and disappeared.

The man they knew as Yuri Katsuki was dead, and he had been for almost eight months. He had trained his body to move in different ways; Yuri’s usual style was gone. He cut his hair; Yuri’s shaggy hairdo was now sleek and well maintained. He’d had no power over the way his eyes changed, nor did he know why, but Yuri’s chocolate brown irises had been all but swallowed up by the blood red hue. The piercings only added to his hardened nature. He had gotten them shortly after becoming Lindsey’s student, claiming he liked the weight of them on his ears.

The performance comes to an end. He completes a sit spin with a twist variation, then he stops moving, effectively ending the program. One knee on the ice, his head leaned back, his right arm out to his side, his left palm covering his mouth, he stares up at the ceiling. For almost an entire minute, the audience is completely silent, until Kurai drops his arms and brings his other knee down onto the ice with a thud. That’s when the crowd goes completely insane.

He shakily gets to his feet and glides over to the edge of the rink, crushing Lindsey in a tight hug that she easily returns.

“You did it, baby,” she laughs in her native language, English, before pulling the goggles off his head and planting a quick, but firm, kiss on his right temple.

They quickly make their way over to the kiss and cry, Kurai sliding his tailcoat off and replacing it with his gray and red jacket, before sitting down and clicking his blade covers back onto the skates.

“Kurai Akahoshi scores a _huge_ 129.76, putting him in first place!” the announcer practically screams. “He’s just shattered the record of every single short program in the world!”

Yet again, the crowd goes absolutely wild, and the other skaters, non- and retired alike, fall into another silence.

Lindsey turns to Kurai, who has a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“Kurai, you did it!” she breathes, still in English. “That’s the highest score there has ever been for a short program... you beat them all!”

“Yes!” he shouts, thrusting his hands into the air, above his head.

He then turns to look at his coach, tears brimming in his eyes.

“I did it, Lin,” he chokes in English, leaning his forehead against hers whilst closing his eyes. “It feels amazing... I... I... Thank you...”

Lindsey smiles warmly at this, bringing her right hand up to his cheek and telling him to take a deep breath. “You _did amazing_!” she corrects, pulling away.

As they move apart, two young girls in sparkly purple leotards walk up to them and push two bouquets of blood red and black roses into Kurai’s arms.

“Thank you, girls,” he tells them in Japanese, planting a quick kiss on both of their foreheads, making them both blush madly, before scurrying off, hand in hand.

After that day, Kurai is dubbed ‘Prince of the Black Ice’, as voted by the public. Another popular one is ‘The Blood Prince’, in reference to his magnificent eye colour.

But he isn’t worried about his nicknames, he is worried about his Free Skate program, which he would be performing first thing the next day. This was the program set to be the most emotionally exhausting. The theme itself is unknown to the public, only he and Lindsey know what it is truly about. The song and dance are a recount of what sort of things he experienced right after Viktor’s forced divorce. His confusion, his depression, his lack of self worth, every emotion that manifested within his heart. He had told Lindsey about the program, but no one, not even she had seen it. It was a true mystery as to what it comprised.

 

Silently, he glides back out onto the rink. Having removed his jacket, he reveals a pair of simple black pants and a dark gray dress shirt with an untied, white bowtie hanging around his neck, under the folded collar. Most of his earrings have been removed and his hair has been left to fall where it wants to. A strange aura fills the building. He’s radiating confusion and hopelessness.

“First up, Kurai Akahoshi,” the announcer says quietly. “He’ll be skating to a cover combination of ‘Hurt’ and ‘Isolation’, piano compositions by Lucas King. His coach has told us that no one, not even she, has seen this program being performed, so this will be the first viewing ever.”

Kurai takes position, crouched in the centre of the ice with his pale hands covering his face. Then the music starts and he begins by sweeping his right leg out and spinning in a low circle. His hands remain over his face as he slowly rises from his crouched position and his hands fall from his face. His expression is one filled with defeat and utter misery and confusion. Lindsey brings a hand to her mouth as tears begin to brim in her eyes.

She knows this story off by heart, and yet she never thought it could be incorporated into a figure skating program. Not even the announcer says anything as they watch Kurai in his moment. Almost every single person in the room is crying by the time he lands his second combination. His movements are slow and filled with emotion. Viktor can’t help but notice some of the more delicate movements mirror those of Yuri. It makes his heart ache all over again. He glances over at Kurai’s coach. She has a sad smile covering her lips and tears streaming down her cheeks. A delicate right hand is placed over her heart and her left and is wrapped around her stomach, her fingers digging into the fabric of her peach coloured knitted jumper. He turns back to look at the skater on the ice. The program has slowed down and is clearly ending. When the music stops, the silence remains. His ending position is even more heart breaking than his starting position.

He’s on his knees, leaning forward with his left arm laying on the ice. His forehead is resting on his wrist and his right hand is gripping the front of his shirt, over his heart. He’s panting and sweating, but Viktor doesn’t need to strain to see that the liquid dripping onto the ice is tears, not sweat. Lindsey is first to snap out of it. She rushes out onto the ice, ignoring the tears that are still falling down her cheeks and pulling Kurai to his feet. He looks completely and utterly numb. His eyes look dead and his skin is so pale it almost looks gray. She has to hold him up as they walk to the kiss and cry. The crowd is still too stunned to react.

“Everyone after him is done for,” Chris whispers. “He may as well have taken the competition right then, whilst he was still sitting on the ice.”

“I can feel it,” Phichit sobs. “I can feel his pain.”

Silence washes over the group again, before Viktor says something that shocks every single person in the room.

“It’s Yuri,” he states.

Somehow, the entire audience hears it. As soon as it registers within them, the cheering starts. And it is truly deafening, almost loud enough to drown out the score announcement. Almost.

“Kurai Akahoshi scores 243.17 points, smashing all outstanding records on Earth!” the announcer exclaims. “He even beat Yuri Katsuki’s miracle score from two years ago at the 2016 Grand Prix Final!”

The big screen that displays the kiss and cry shows Kurai looking far more depressed and lost than a record breaker should look. Suddenly he stands up and walks over to the commentators’ booth, taking the microphone from the announcer’s hand and bring it to his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes.

These words silence the entire room. No one even dares to breath. Their waving arms frozen in midair, their banners fluttering to the ground, their eyes going wide in shock.

“I’m  sorry for leaving,” he says. “I’m sorry for changing. Yuri Katsuki once resided in this body, but after too much heartbreak, his soul shattered, and he now goes by Kurai Akahoshi, The Prince of the Black Ice, as you named him. To those of you who may have hoped and believed he didn’t die like his family announced, I assure you that the suicide note Mari Katsuki found lying on top of the ‘Yuri on Ice’ track CD was real. Yuri Katsuki is dead.”

And with those final words, he gently places the microphone back on the desk and leaves the building with his head bowed. No one sees when the tinge of brown in his right eye disappears completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suicide note! (And a little more)

For Viktor, the next few days passed in a weird kind of haze. His mind was clouded with a sense of depression and confusion. He found himself basking in memories of his grave mistakes. Before, when Yuri was still alive, when they were still married, he was happy. Then the competitions had rolled around, and the stress had become overwhelming. His deluded paranoia led him to falsely believe, then openly accuse Yuri of cheating on him. All it had taken was one glance at that warm, happy expression on his husband’s face when he saw the incoming messages from the ‘Mystery Woman’. That’s all it had taken to drive him to the point of no return. He had yelled, accused, insulted and put down Yuri in a way that had the poor Japanese man mute for the following days.

Two days after Viktor’s accusation, the separation was announced and divorce proceedings commenced. The media had been in shock, unsure of how to react. Almost instantly, Yuri had packed up his belongings, handed his ring back to Viktor, and caught the first flight back to Japan. At first, Viktor was just angry, then he was lonely, then Yuri went missing. Social media exploded in panic. Some people had immediately turned their deadly gazes on the Russian idol, some had dismissed the incident as a coincidence, not willing to so easily give up their admiration for the figure skater, even after _he_ had been the one to divorce Yuri.

The fans and general public, everyone, had begun to follow the investigation’s progress via Yuri’s sister, and many joined in the desperate search. Then, Mari had found the note. A single, seemingly innocent piece of paper that resulted in the crashing and burning of Viktor’s entire world.

_Dear Loved One,_

_I’m assuming that you are, in fact, someone I care deeply about. Otherwise, you would have no other reason to be in my room. I don’t know when you will find this note, but I assure you that you will not get the chance to question me about it. My body is probably long gone by now._

_A peculiar thing, suicide is. I never thought about it in the way I did after Viktor and I got that divorce. I had never thought about it with that strange desire. Sure, it had crossed my mind once or twice before, especially after that incident a few years ago, and during high school too. I was depressed during that time, I have no reason to deny that. But, then my idol claimed the title of my coach, and, for the first time in years, I was truly happy._

_Our student-teacher relationship eventually turned into something more, and I wasn’t only happy, but content. That’s a good thing, trust me. I often found myself choking, neck deep in the love I felt for him. And there was a time where I know he felt the same for me._

_I’m not entirely sure what happened, for my memory is hazy. But I vividly remember what he said to me that day. However, I refuse to repeat it for his own safety. It was a strange experience, the divorce process. Mind you, all I had to do was turn up and sign a couple of sheets of paper. They looked blank to me, but maybe it was just my imagination. I barely remember packing up my things and moving back to Japan, but I know I did it because I remember my mother and my sister greeting me at the door. Those sad, knowing smiles on their faces burned themselves into my heart. They were trying to understand, I get that, and I am thankful to them._

_In the few days after my return, I don’t remember eating anything. I might have drunk some water, or maybe some of the sake Minako-sensei brought me, though I am not entirely sure. Even if the memories slid from my mind like water off a duck’s back, I know I didn’t leave my room. It made me wonder._

_‘How would it have ended if I had accepted my family’s efforts to comfort me?’_

_‘Would I have gotten over it if I had placed one single toe over the barrier between my bedroom and the hallway?’_

_‘Would my mind still be intact?’_

_‘Would I have had the motivation to go on?’_

_These questions will forever remain unanswered, unfortunately._

_There were a few people I would like to say things to, so I’ll get on with that._

**_Mari:_ ** _Please, I beg of you, find someone to love you. Get married, move out of the house, have kids. Even if I’m not there, I would like to have a couple of nieces or nephews running around._

**_Triplets:_ ** _You three little devils might want to work on that social media obsession of yours. But, thank you. Thank you for posting that video on YouTube. It changed my entire life for the better._

**_Minako-sensei:_ ** _Your drinking habit seems to be getting a little out of hand, you might want to work on that. Also, thank you for your help over the years. I will be forever in your debt._

**_Mother + Father:_ ** _I will always admire your work on the inn and the hot springs. I will always love the both of you unconditionally._

**_Phichit:_ ** _I love you, dude. You’ll always be my best friend. Thank you and good luck!_

**_Yurio:_ ** _Stop being mean to everyone, please. You were almost like my little brother throughout the past couple of years, and, despite all of your insults and bullying, I will always care about you. Well done, thank you and good luck for the future._

**_Viktor:_ ** _I am honestly at a loss as to what happened and why, but that will never change the way I feel about you. It may have been harsh, but don’t beat yourself up about what happened. You were my light and saviour, as cheesy as it sounds. I love you. Please continue to live your life to the fullest._

**_To my adorable and lovely fans:_ ** _Your immovable faith in me is one of the things that has let me continue this far in my journey. It may be over, but remember, your love and devotion will be forever appreciated. You all, every single one of you, have a place in my heart. Thank you._

**_Everyone else:_ ** _Don’t be sad that you don’t get your own special message, you all mean as much to me as my family does. Your support and determination throughout the years was what kept me going. A million thank yous._

_With love,_

_Yuri Katsuki <3_

This single sheet of paper had torn their lives in half. Viktor had felt like he was choking on the shattered remnants of his heart. And _god_ it had hurt. Not just him though. Everyone. Even people who didn’t have a clue what ice skating was, they felt that pain. It was a worldwide feat. 800 words and a single action had hearts crumbling to dust.

 

A loud knock on Viktor’s hotel room door woke him from his trance.

“Viktor, open the door!” Chris’s voice sounded from the other side.

Silently, the silver haired man dragged his heavy limbs out of the bed and tugged the door open. Chris stepped in, uninvited, and shut the door behind him.

“What do you want?” Viktor croaked, wincing at the sound of his voice after two days of silence.

“And _that_ ,” Chris said, pointing at Viktor’s throat. “Is _exactly_ the reason why I am taking you out.”

“What are you talking about?” the shut in demanded, glaring at his friend with mistrust.

“Have a shower, get dressed, I’m taking you out for dinner,” Chris said, confirming Viktor’s suspicions. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You have exactly half an hour. If you’re not dressed, I’ll drag you out in nothing but your towel.”

Viktor can’t help but smirk at this. He walked over to his suitcase, pulled out a random shirt and jeans, and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Chris to watch the timer on his phone.

 

An hour later, Viktor, Chris, Yuri, Otabek and Phichit were all sitting in an American style restaurant, discussing their thoughts on the future. All of them were carefully avoiding the subject of a certain Japanese skater, for Viktor’s sake. It was going well. They had just received their food, and the silver haired Russian was now watching Phichit photograph his meal with unmatched enthusiasm.

Until the door opened and you-know-who walked in, his coach in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECOND CHAPTER.... COMPLETE! It took me a really long time to write this chapter, for obvious reasons. I found that after I wrote it, I had to take a bit of a break from writing all together.   
> I may write depressing and angsty (I don't think that's a word) stories, but I have a very cheerful and enthusiastic personality.  
> P.S. Please forgive me for torturing the characters!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scary Kurai!

The bell on the door chimed loudly as they entered, announcing their presence to the world.

Lindsey had almost physically dragged Kurai out of their apartment. He wasn’t depressed, at least neither of them thought so, but he had been unusually quiet the last couple of days. That single speech had taken so much out of him.

After they had gotten home that night, after his free skate program, she had finally noticed the difference with his eye. At first, it had worried her. But now, she was beginning to wonder if Yuri Katsuki’s complete absence was for the best.

 

It took a few moments for Kurai to register what _exactly_ he was looking at. The other skaters were there, right in front of him. He wasn’t going to deny that it bothered him, but he decided it would be best to ignore them. Lindsey silently obeyed his pleading glance, grabbing his hand and leading him to one of the secluded booths, as far away from the others as possible.

Kurai rid himself of his thick, black, winter coat and removed his blood red scarf from around his neck. Beneath the layers of warm clothing, he wore a simple black button-down shirt, along with a pair of dark gray, scuffed jeans and black combat boots. When he removed his brown leather gloves, painted black nails could be seen, as well as a thick banded, silver infinity ring. Despite the air of calm around him, the piercings seemed to frighten the other diners. His movements were elegant and meaningful. Even the simple action of _sitting down_ seemed to attract the attention of all.

He slid down the bench until his left shoulder was pressed against the cold window, before reaching over and grabbing a menu from the rack.

“We can go somewhere else if you feel uncomfortable,” Lindsey said, keeping her voice low, despite knowing that no one could possibly hear them in their quiet corner.

“No, this is fine,” he answered, making sure to throw her a seemingly genuine smile. “I’m looking forward to the food here. I read some really good reviews... Besides, I’ve successfully convinced myself that they don’t exist.”

She squinted at her companion for a moment, unsure of whether to let it go or not. She had seen that smile too many times. She knew that any action following that smile could go one of two ways; very good, or very bad. It was the smile she had seen ten minutes before that street fight a few weeks ago.

“Okay, but if I think that even the _tiniest_ of things is wrong, at _any_ point in this outing,” she warned, pointing her finger right in his face to make a point, “we’re going straight back home.”

He nodded his head vigorously, knowing better than to release the laughter that had been just about ready burst from his throat. He was being threatened by a woman who was considerably smaller than him. He was wearing all of his piercings, black clothes and nail polish, and eyeliner. And she was wearing a flowery scarf, a blue shirt, a lacy white cardigan, yellow skinny jeans, and pink boots. They were complete opposites, and he looked terrified under her sharp, commanding gaze.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he reassured her, giving her another wide, yet nervous, smile.

She nodded in satisfaction, before looking down at her own menu. Kurai shook his head at her antics, smirking absentmindedly.

He wasn’t going to deny that she had saved him, more than once, with those terrifying threats. He knew she didn’t mean most of them, but he still got those same chills whenever she looked at him like that. She reminded him of a Chihuahua. Small and cute, yet sharp-toothed and bossy at the same time.

He moved his gaze back down to the booklet in his hands, skimming over the possibilities. There were so many choices, that, in the end, he just let his coach pick for him. He didn’t really care for food. It was just another necessity for the human body. He was well aware that his past self’s life and career had practically revolved around food, but he wasn’t like that anymore. His tastes had changed along with his eyes. A vivid difference in his personality, much like that blood red against that chocolate brown.

It was frustrating at times, trying to come to terms with just _how much_ he had changed in just under a year. But, he guessed it hadn’t really taken all that long the first time either.

He glanced up at his mentor, running his fingers through his, thick, gelled up hair. She gave him a small smile, before looking back down at the phone in her left hand.

“How do you do, Blood Prince?” a silky smooth voice came from next to him.

He knew that voice. He knew that Chris was now sitting next to _him_ , instead of Viktor.

He didn’t move his eyes from Lindsey, who hadn’t even bothered to look up from the device in her hand, knowing that he could deal with the newcomer in a calm manner.

“I’d advise you to leave us be,” Kurai replied in a cold, emotionless tone.

“Hmmm, but I don’t want to,” Chris said, his voice almost a whine. “I’d like to get to know the new, mysterious, Prince of the Black Ice.”

Kurai’s hands shook with the need to hit something. Chris noticed this, but didn’t know whether to stop, or count it as a win.

And that’s when Chris went too far. Of course, Kurai had been expecting it, but he couldn’t suppress his flinch when a warm, elegant hand snaked its way across his thigh. Batting the other’s hand away, Kurai pushed Chris off the seat, before standing up himself. Everyone held their breath, anticipating a possible fight. But Kurai merely grabbed hold of Chris’s wrist, pulled him to his feet, and dragged him back over to his own group. He then pulled Chris’s seat back out for him and pushed the older man down into it. With a hand on his ex-friend’s shoulder, he bent down so they were eyelevel and gave the blonde-haired a tight lipped smile.

“I trust that you won’t bother us again,” the Blood Prince said, not bothering to suppress the murderous glint in his red eyes.

Chris gave a small, fearful nod, and Kurai walked away, satisfied with the fact that the situation hadn’t turned violent against his own will.

“Well done,” Lindsey grinned as he sat down again. “Though you _did_ threaten him indirectly, there were no punches thrown. I applaud your efforts.”

Kurai let out a small chuckle and the waitress placed their meals down in front of them.

“I’ll take you to get that tongue piercing later,” she said, picking up her fork and glancing up at him. “If you behave until we leave the building, that is.”

He shot her an amused look.

“I appreciate the _oh-so-thoughtful_ gesture,” he replied.

He let out another chuckle, rolling up his sleeves to reveal clear signs of past self-harm, before digging into his burger and salad.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurai walked stiffly down the hallway, nervously rolling his week-old tongue piercing around in his mouth, trying to avoid and ignore the stares he was getting from the media, other skaters and their teams. He was well aware that he looked like a complete mess. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, mainly because he was attempting to nurse an ill Lindsey back to health until four in the morning. And when he had finally gotten a break, he had ingested too much caffeine to be able to even sit down without getting hopelessly restless. He had spent those two hours of free time pacing in the kitchen of their rented apartment.

And now he was exhausted. The makeup covered the bags under his eyes, but he still looked paler than usual. Grumbling curses under his breath, he made his way toward the change rooms. He had barely touched the door handle when an all too familiar voice cut through the haze in his aching head.

“Katsudon!”

He froze mid-stride, not daring to turn around and face the Russian Punk. Shivers crawled down his spine as he tried to ignore the nickname he hated with a passion. Regaining his composure, he continued his current task and slipped into the change rooms without even glancing back at Yuri. Letting his bag strap slide off his shoulder and down his arm to his hand, he stepped soundlessly into one of the stalls and made sure to lock the door.

As he was pulling off his shirt, a loud bang came from the other side of the stall’s door. Kurai crouched down a little and saw the angry blond’s single shoe-clad foot standing in front of his stall. Another loud bang, again and again and again. Yuri Plisetsky was continually kicking his stall door. He shook his head, a faint smile ghosting his lips.

No matter how persistent the other skater was, Kurai wasn’t going to open the door until he was changed. He shrugged the black t-shirt off his arms, letting it fall into his bag, before pulling on the top half of his Steampunk outfit.

When he finally did open the door, Yuri had disappeared again.  He quickly zipped up his dark gray and red jacket over his costume, shut his bag in one of the lockers, and exited the change rooms, feeling slightly less crappy than earlier.

 

When he got to the warm-up area, he spotted a Yuri yelling furiously at a dazed-looking Viktor. He scoffed a little at the sight. Sure, Viktor was probably _very_ traumatized from what he had experienced over the past couple of weeks. And Kurai did feel a little bad for the silver-haired man, but it was technically Viktor’s own fault that all this had happened. A short chuckle escaped his throat as he shook his head and turned away from his ex-friends. Only to come face-to-face with his ex- _best_ friend.

“O-Oh!” Phichit laughed nervously, giving the Japanese man a hesitant smile. “Hello Kurai, how are you?”

Kurai stared at the Thai skater for a moment, silently contemplating his options for a response. Then he let a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He reached down and caught both of Phichit’s hands in between his soft, warm ones. All eyes were on them, expressions of shock covering the faces of the media and fellow skaters alike. The fear in Phichit’s eyes quickly morphed into confusion.

“I’m good,” Kurai told the other young man. “I hope you are doing well too. Good luck on the ice.”

He gave the other’s hands a quick squeeze, before walking away to put on his skates and warm up, leaving Phichit to gape at thin air in shock.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter out all of them, but my editor said it was her favourite (plus the one she had to do the least amount of editing on)  
> It's really very short. I'm sorry. But that's probably because I wrote it at three in the morning when I couldn't sleep.

It was a strange feeling. The pain had always been there, getting strongest when he tried either to remember, or forget what had happened. He’d seen both therapists _and_ normal doctors about it, but he knew there was nothing they could do.

It was all in his head. Like phantom pain for a missing limb, but he had no limbs missing apart from the extension of himself, Yuri Katsuki.

The said man had always been there, but was gone at the same time. Kurai felt the other’s presence, but it was like a shadow moving on its own, a trick of the light.

As he stood in first place on the winners’ podium, with the young man _he_ had called Yurio to his right, and Otabek to his left, he saw the look on Viktor Nikiforov’s face. He knew exactly what Viktor was feeling; his past and present self had felt it, right alongside the pain.

_Longing._

A simple, yet devastatingly complex feeling. It could be torture or bliss, misery or happiness. Kurai looked down at the shining, golden medal hanging around his neck. It was strange, being back up on the podium after Katsuki had left. He had to admit, it almost felt _wrong_.

Hearing his name almost being chanted by the crowd brought him out of his thought. With gentle fingers, he lifted the metal up to his face. His eyes locked with Viktor’s as his lips touched the medal’s edge. Blue eyes glistened with recognition when Kurai’s fans started screaming even louder, if it were possible.

He dropped the medal again, letting it thump against his chest, before running his right hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. It took a single moment for him to adjust his grip on the huge bouquet of black roses, before his eyes met the cameras and he gave them all that cocky, trademark smirk of his.

The applause was deafening, and Kurai knew something was changing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Please forgive me for ending it here. <3

It wasn’t easy to get Kurai drunk, is the conclusion that the other skaters had come to. It was already 11pm, and the Japanese man was only somewhere between sober and tipsy. The only symptom that the alcohol they had given him was working was the slight flush on his cheeks, and the amount he was talking.

When they had all arrived at the after party, they had been surprised even to see Kurai there. He seemed to be making a conscious effort to socialize, which they hoped was a good thing.

However, one thing was for sure... whatever had clicked back into place in the winner’s seemingly unstable mind, had made him _friendly_.

He was talking freely about his time living with Lindsey in America. He told them that they’d lived in an apartment with two cats and a hamster, a strange combination in their minds. He’d also bluntly admitted to having tried to kill himself with an overdose of antidepressants when he and Lindsey first started living together, but recovered quickly and learned to take out his anger on the personal trainers at the gym he went to.

It was almost eerie, the amount of stuff he was telling them. None of them had to talk much at all. A couple of questions here and there and, miraculously, the red-eyed man would ramble on for the next half hour without stopping _or_ changing subject.

As time passed, and they fed the winner more and more drinks, he began opening up beyond their expectations.

At 11:34pm, Kurai got a text from Lindsey, saying they had a flight to catch the next day, and if he wasn’t back at the hotel by 12, she would personally drag him back.

“I need to go,” he announced in a serious tone, making a few of the other skaters jump. “She’s threatening me.”

Reluctantly, they bid their farewells. But, imagine their surprise when a certain silver-haired Russian offered to walk Kurai out.

 

The elevator ride was silent, but it wasn’t as awkward as the two thought it would be.

“Congratulations,” Viktor said suddenly, breaking the silence as they walked out of the lobby. “On winning the gold medal, I mean. It’s a great accomplishment.”

A faint, soft smile crossed Kurai’s lips for a moment, before it was quickly replaced by his normal, cocky smile.

“Thanks,” he said confidently, though his voice was quieter than it had been back upstairs. “You’ve won it yourself a few times, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“That I have...” Viktor muttered in reply.

When they reached the edge of the road, it wasn’t too long before Kurai had hailed a taxi, and they were standing there, facing each other. Kurai’s right hand was lightly gripping the top of the open backseat door. Viktor no more than four feet away from him, hands in his pockets to shield them from the winter cold.

“Thank you for tonight,” the Russian said quietly, a happy smile on his face. “Thank you for coming to the party and talking with us.”

“That’s alright,” the Japanese man answered casually, lips tugging up in a half smile. “Thank you for letting me celebrate with you.”

That’s when Viktor made a bold move. With as little hesitation as he could muster, he reached out and grasped Kurai’s left hand in his right one, giving it a small squeeze, before dropping it again.

“Really, thank you,” he said firmly. “I had an amazing time, we have to do it again some time... maybe just the two of us?”

At this, Kurai’s mocking smirk appeared again, but it was softer than Viktor had last seen it.

“Sure thing, Nikiforov,” Kurai laughed slightly, letting his head tilt a little to the right of its own accord as he took in Viktor’s hopeful expression. “Just give me a call.”

Removing his hand from the top of the door, Kurai grasped Viktor’s right hand tightly in his own and gave it a firm shake.

“See you later,” the black-haired man called as he climbed into the car and slammed the door closed before Viktor could answer.

As they drove away, Kurai turned his head to look back at the man he had left on the sidewalk. Viktor was staring down at his palm in shock and confusion, undoubtedly trying to figure out exactly _when_ Kurai had written his number down on that scrap of paper.

 

Turning to face the front again, that smirk on Kurai’s face returned yet again. Inside, he felt Katsuki lashing out, thrashing against the bars of his cage, made from both the hatred and love that he had once felt for the silver-haired, blue-eyed beauty that was Viktor Nikiforov.

His left eye shimmered, before turning back to that original chocolate brown.

_Things were changing..._

 

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST CHAPTER!!!!!  
> Ahhhh... It feels so good to finally have this fanfic up on here. I've been contemplating this for a long time.  
> To be, or not to be... that is the question.
> 
> P.S. You can also find this story on Fanfiction.net, and the first chapter on wattpad.  
> Hope you liked it!  
> Love from ~ Hanako-chan  
> <3


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